


Helping Hand

by Anonymous



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fingerfucking, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Trans Male Character, trans fjord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 12:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Fjord splashes his face with the icy-cold water, washing away the drying sweat as he does the mental calculations. They're almost to Trostenwald. They'll spend a few days there and that should be enough. He can get a single room for himself, lock himself in there, and get through this.He will get through this.





	Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> written for the kink meme
> 
> a note: none of fjord's distress is ever because he's trans, i hope that's clear in the writing but in case it isn't, i'm explicitly stating that none of his stress is from dysphoria/internalized transphobia. bc i'm queer and trans and i said so.

Fjord feels it coming on a few days out from Trostenwald. He gets a low-grade fever and starts to ache in weird places, but he tries to write it off as just a cold until he wakes up in a cold sweat, hard and wet and desperate in a way he hasn't been for a long time. 

Beau and Caduceus are keeping watch, and as he sits straight up, breathing hard, they both turn to stare at him. He sees Beau's brow furrow under those big goggles of hers, and Caduceus just looks at him as he takes a sip from one of his travel teacups.

"You alright, dude?" Beau asks, and Fjord silently curses himself for falling in with people who give a shit about him.

"Yup," he lies, accent on, trying to sound like he didn't just wake up from a wet dream, "Dinner just disagreed with me, I think."

"Oh. Gross," Beau says, at the same time as Caduceus says, "Sorry to hear that, Mister Fjord. If you're having stomach problems, I have a few teas that might help. Is it more nausea or diarrhea?"

Fjord is already scrambling out of his bedroll, panicked and embarrassed, and he heads away from camp and towards the stream that's nearby. He needs to cool off, to wash off, anything to get back to feeling just a little normal. As he starts to walk quickly away, he has the presence of mind to call over his shoulder, "I think I'm just gonna let nature take its course on this one." That should keep them away.

The water of the stream is ice-cold and exactly what he needs. He strips off his tunic and his sleep pants and wades in before he can talk himself out of it. The water is almost painful against his heated skin, biting into him and making him shiver violently. His arousal immediately dissipates, but he knows it'll only be gone for so long. As he splashes his face, washing away the drying sweat, he does the mental calculations. They're almost to Trostenwald. They'll spend a few days there and that should be enough. He can get a single room for himself, lock himself in there, and get through this. He will get through this.

His pants are cold and sticky when he puts them back on, but he doesn't have another choice. He tries to sneak back into camp to avoid any further questions from anyone, but he steps on a twig five feet away from his bedroll and Caduceus turns to look at him.

"Feel better?" He intones in that deep voice of his.

"Just peachy. G'night."

Nobody says anything to him the next morning, and he keeps himself together the rest of the way to town. The inn they end up staying at is just barely big enough for Fjord to get his own room, but for two extra gold, he does. Nott pokes and prods, asks what he's plotting, but he just ignores her (and, when that doesn't work, he tells her it's for demon worship and she’s first on his list of people to curse). His friends are certainly _suspicious_ but they don't seem to _suspect_. All the better to keep it that way. 

_It_ hits him for real the first night they're there- he wakes up sweating and shivering and knows he's past the point of cold water being able to quell the heat boiling under his skin. He kicks off the covers, strips out of his soaked bedclothes, and tries to go back to sleep. He's done this enough times before to know that touching himself only makes things worse, especially this early. Better to try and wait it out, as uncomfortable as that might be.

Fjord doesn't realize he's managed to fall asleep until a knock on his door wakes him up. He's groggy and his eyes are still adjusting to being open, but he can tell it's at least late morning by the sunlight filtering in through the faded, threadbare curtains. As he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, he realizes he's naked and scrambles to put his bedclothes back on. They've dried out overnight, though they still smell faintly of sweat, and as Fjord slips the loose pants on, they stick slightly to the wetness on his inner thighs. He grimaces, but unlocks the door and hurries to get back into his bed so he can at least _try_ to hide under the covers.

"Come in." Good, his voice doesn't crack or waver, maybe he can do this.

The knob turns slowly, and the door opens just enough for a big grey head with a shock of pink hair to peek in.

"Hey," Caduceus says, "how are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm a bit tired, feels like I might be comin' down with something. I was thinkin' I'd just stay in bed today." Immediately he kicks himself, why did he try to lie about feeling sick to the _cleric, damn it-_

Caduceus cocks his head a bit. "Are you feeling sick on top of being in heat, or was that just a cover-up?"

Fjord feels himself go cold and rigid as Caduceus watches him with a neutral expression. His heart is beating in his throat and panic is washing over him like waves in a storm, one after another, each more brutal than the last. He can either keep trying to lie ( _because he did such a good job of that the first time,_ he thinks) or he can just accept that this is going to happen, whatever _this_ is.

"Look, uh- just come in, come in and shut the door, shit-" 

Caduceus obeys, opening the door just wide enough to step into the room and closing it behind him. He’s holding a teacup on a saucer, and steam rises from it. Even as Fjord tries to keep himself calm, pouring his energy into not freaking out, there’s a part of his stupid, horny brain that’s thinking about everything that having Cad in his room could lead to. Luckily he's standing just far enough away that Fjord can't smell him, can't feel his body heat, and the increasingly small part of his brain that's still rational is deeply appreciative. The rest of his brain is an addled mess of hormones and heat and anxiety that wants Caduceus closer, close enough to smell, touch, taste-

Caduceus holds the teacup out towards Fjord. "This might help clear your head a bit. It's bitter, but it'll take the edge off. Maybe shorten your…. I should've asked, what's it called for half-orcs? Heat? Rut? I think they're used pretty interchangeably for firbolgs but I’m not entirely sure…"

Fjord shakes his head a little, trying to get himself to focus on the words and not the thought of how good those huge fingers would feel inside of him. "Uh… I'm not really sure. Didn't get a whole lot in the way of half-orc cultural education when I was a kid. Dunno that I ever really put a name to it."

"Huh. Well. I'm gonna set this down here. If I get much closer I think that'll just make it worse for you." He sets the teacup and saucer on the table by the door, and smiles at Fjord. "If I can do anything else, Mister Fjord, let me know. I know how it feels, and I don't want you to feel like you're alone."

He starts to open the door to leave, and before Fjord can stop himself, he blurts out, "Wait!"

Caduceus looks at him, curious, and Fjord is cursing himself because he has no idea what to say next. He wants him to stay, to talk- to be there so Fjord isn't alone like this, so that just once he doesn't have to go through this alone. That small, rational part of his brain just wants company- if he can't have a sexual partner, he at least wants a friend. But that feeling is a bit more complicated than he's capable of expressing in his current state (and way more vulnerable than he's willing to express in _any_ state), so he just says, "Please… don't go yet."

Caduceus closes the door again, and watches Fjord with those pink eyes, like he's pulling Fjord apart piece by piece to figure out what makes him tick. But there's kindness rather than malice to the way he looks at Fjord, and Fjord trusts him. Well, to the extent that he trusts any of the Mighty Nein. Enough, but not too much. Don't trust anybody too much.

"Drink your tea," Caduceus says, voice low and soothing. "We can talk after. I'm not going anywhere."

Fjord is careful to keep some distance between him and Caduceus as he gets up and moves to the desk. The tea is hot and just as bitter as Caduceus warned, but Fjord downs it quickly, doesn't even grimace at the taste. It's actually a little helpful to have that bitter, astringent flavor in his mouth- something to distract from the ache in the pit of his stomach.

"It takes about half an hour to start working," Caduceus says, voice still soothing and so nice to listen to. "I'll stay over here until you're ready for me to move closer." He slides down against the wall until he's sitting in the far corner of the room. His eyes are still fixed on Fjord, still dissecting him, peeling back the layers of his façades until he's raw and bare. 

Fjord climbs back into his bed, squeezing his eyes shut and curling into a ball. He just wants this to end, just wants to get back to being clear-headed and focused and not consumed by the need to be fucked into next month. Gods, he just wants to be normal. Anything to be normal.

"Hey, Fjord, come back to me."

He opens his eyes, realizes they're blurry with tears, realizes he's been crying, and another wave of shame crashes over him. Bad enough to be this vulnerable, but outright crying? He's thankful that Caduceus isn't the type to mock him, or even share the information. _None of the Nein are,_ he thinks, _They're not like the kids at the orphanage. They're not like the sailors._

He scrubs the tears and the snot from his face with his sleeve, and clears his throat.

"Sorry 'bout that." He wants to lie, to say the tea was too bitter or he had something in his eye, but Caduceus would see right through that and moreover, he doesn't _want_ to. He's tired of hiding his insecurities, of lying to seem stronger. Just once, he wants to let his guard down. "I just, uh….. 's a lot going on."

"It's okay. How are you feeling?"

There's still a faint bitter taste at the back of Fjord's mouth, and his stomach is churning a little- the tea doesn't seem to be agreeing with his empty stomach- but he feels better. Definitely still sticky between his thighs, he realizes with a grimace, but the burning ache seems to be fading. He's still hot, still sweaty and sore and there's still a large part of him that wants to be fucked and filled and knotted--

"Will you, uh…. Will you come closer?"

" 'course." There's a grunt as Caduceus stands up, and a few heavy footfalls before the other side of the bed sinks with a creak. "Want me to rub your back? I'm sure your muscles are sore."

The struggle between that sounding heavenly and the fear that if Cad touches him with those big warm hands he'll be driven absolutely crazy ends when he tries to move and finds his shoulders so tense it hurts to move.

"... please."

"On your stomach, then. I'll try not to hurt you, but it'll feel better later if I'm a little rough now."

Fjord has to clench his jaw shut- the tea hasn't taken effect well enough yet that Cad's phrasing has no effect on him. He knows the firbolg doesn't mean it like that, but the words combined with the low, slightly-gravelly voice telling him what to do sends a dull pulse of heat through him nonetheless. He tries to swallow down the want and the hunger as he obeys, rolling onto his stomach and closing his eyes tight.

The bed shifts and creaks more as Caduceus climbs fully onto it and- fuckin' _shitballs_ , straddles his thighs and leans forward to start pressing his thumbs into Fjord's shoulders. It hurts like he warned, but Fjord has been through worse and the ache in his muscles is nearly unbearable. This is good. This will be good. He can do this.

"That's it," Caduceus praises, "just breathe. Breathe and relax. I've got you." He presses his thumb into a knot between Fjord's shoulder blades that _hurts_ so _bad_ he groans, but as Caduceus works at it, it starts to feel good, and the next groan that slips through his lips is a different sort altogether. Immediately, he regrets it, mentally kicking himself, but Caduceus just keeps working, kneading and pushing and rubbing. It's a dizzying mixture of pain and relief, and despite his body's best efforts, he starts relaxing into it. He's still _very_ aware of Caduceus' weight on his thighs, and of the way the thin, loose cotton is now sticking to his skin where he's still wet, and of the way he's so loose and pliant and relaxed.

"Uh, 'duceus? I'm not sure your tea is doin' what it's supposed to."

Caduceus pauses, and hums thoughtfully. "It's possible that it was a firbolg-specific brew. It's definitely been enough time… Do you feel any better at all?"

"I think so, I mean… I feel a little more clear-headed, for sure, there's just still some, uh…" He trails off awkwardly, embarrassed.

"Yeah. I gotcha. Huh. That's real interesting, I'll have to make a note of that. Maybe try making a different mix for you..? Sorry it didn't help much."

"I appreciate the effort, truly. And the massage. You didn't have to do that but I'm thankful you did."

"Anytime." There's a weight lifted, quite literally, as Caduceus climbs off of his thighs. Fjord rolls over and pushes himself up so he's sitting propped up against the headboard. Caduceus has one leg folded on the bed and the other on the floor. He's hunched over just a bit, bad posture masking his true height. He looks at Fjord, cocking his head gently to the side. 

"I hope I'm not overstepping any bounds by saying this, but…" Caduceus sounds unsure, voice a little lower than usual, soft even, like he's talking to a scared animal, and it sets the heat in Fjord's belly flaring up again, "If you wanted more, ah…. _intimate_ help, it might make your heat a bit shorter."

"Oh." Fjord's brain stops for a moment, like something has caught in a cog, jamming up the works, bringing all thought processes to a grinding halt. As his brain starts up again, his mind is filled with images of Caduceus doing- well, damn near whatever he pleases. His mouth, his fingers, his… whatever he wants. Whatever Caduceus wants to take from Fjord, he'll give. 

"I'm sorry if that wasn't a good thing to say. Sex isn't, uh, as much of a thing for me as it is for most people. I don't want you to think I'm trying to take advantage of the vulnerable situation you're in. I'm happy to help if you want me to have sex with you, but it's more than fair if you don't."

Fjord nods dumbly, brain still focused on what _exactly_ it would feel like having Caduceus' mouth on him, kissing and licking and sucking and-

"If you're not interested in it, I really wouldn't want to impose." Fjord's mouth is running even as he's imagining Caduceus' fingers on his lips. Caduceus' fingers in his hole. Caduceus' cock in his- "That's… I mean, it's a real intimate thing and I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position-"

A big, warm hands covers his where he's gripping the bed sheet beneath him, and it's like he's been struck by lightning. The physical contact, bare skin to bare skin, has him somehow even wetter than before. Caduceus' nose crinkles just a bit, and Fjord realizes with horror that he can probably smell him, could probably smell him the whole time, _even back in the woods_ , and his heart skips a beat. Before he can stop himself, his eyes flicker down to the crotch of Cad's loose, baggy pants, but he doesn't see anything to indicate the firbolg is especially interested in his situation, so to speak. He's inclined to believe him, to trust that Caduceus isn't just trying to take advantage of him, though at the moment, there's a not-so-small part of him that doesn't care either way.

"Fjord," that deep voice says, rumbling through Fjord's very being, "It's no trouble for me. I can't say I know exactly what I'm doing, but I won't think less of you if you say yes."

"I- I think- gods, Caduceus, it's not- I'm not-" He's so frustrated, stress and arousal and need bubbling up and mixing in his chest until it's all too much and he's lurching forwards onto his knees, burying his face in the soft silky fabric of Caduceus' tunic and just breathing in his scent- herbal and floral and just a bit musky. His hands grab the tunic, trying to ground himself, and he feels the heat of a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles into the sweat-damp fabric. Caduceus rests his chin on the top of Fjord's head and sighs.

"It's okay. You're okay." A pause. "Do you want me to just touch you? We can start slow. You can tell me to stop any time."

Fjord nods slowly, tired and defeated. "Yeah," he mumbles, voice muffled in Caduceus' chest, "please."

Caduceus reaches his other hand up to brush through Fjord's short hair, through the shaved sides that are starting to need a trim, and scratches his nails gently against Fjord's scalp.

"Anything that's not okay?"

"Shit, I dunno. Can't think of anything at the moment, except- I guess don't come in me, if we, uh, end up at that point."

"Sure thing. I'm not quite sure I'm interested in penetration, but I'll let you know. Anything you _do_ want?"

Fjord shivers- there's so fucking much he wants, too many options for his hormone-addled brain to sort through and choose from. He lands on, "Whatever you're comfortable with."

"Alright. I'll start slow, and you can stop me any time. Do you want me to kiss you?"

On one hand, it sounds good, _extremely_ good, those warm lips on his, a hot tongue in his mouth, being so close, but. It feels too intimate. Even with what they're going to be doing. He shakes his head against Caduceus' chest. "I don't think so. Not right now, anyhow."

Caduceus runs his fingers through Fjord's hair soothingly as his other hand moves from Fjord's back to his hip. His thumb rests on his hipbone and rubs up and down, slowly but with some pressure behind the touch. His chin still rests on Fjord's head, and when he speaks, Fjord feels it vibrate through him.

"Would you like me to talk?"

"Uh…. Yeah, I s'pose? That sounds good."

"You smell nice. I've been able to smell you all day, and it's kinda distracting. Especially now. I think I might like to taste you? I'd definitely like to touch you. I bet you feel real nice. Soft and wet. Would you like me to touch you?"

That low voice so close to his ear, the way it rumbles through his chest, the thumb sliding up and down his hipbone, the things Cad is saying to him- it's all way too much, and he very nearly comes then and there. He's fairly certain his pants are unsalvageable at this point as slick leaks from him incessantly. His body is trying to prepare him to take an orc-sized cock, or maybe even several, which is bullshit for so many reasons, and he's thankful this _thing_ only happens once every few years. Traveling with the Mighty Nein has been good for a lot of reasons, but it's harder to disappear for a few days when there's a group of people who will ask questions and, gods forbid, worry. The last time he went through this was when he was on Vandren's ship, and he had- well, Sabien had been there, back then.

Fjord shuts his eyes and tries desperately not to think about Sabien when Caduceus is sliding his hand down his hip, fingers splayed on his inner thigh, exploring the wet fabric that's starting to cool in the air. Fjord spreads his legs a little wider from where he's knelt, but keeps his face hidden against Caduceus' chest. He doesn't think he can handle those pink eyes staring through him on top of everything else that's going on.

"Wow," Caduceus murmurs, almost to himself. "This is really something." Then he's sliding his hand up Fjord's thigh to cup his crotch, palm pressing up against his sensitive dick. The broad, gentle pressure is almost worse than nothing at all, and he lets out a pathetic little whimper and starts rolling his hips into Cad's hand.

"Shh, you're okay," Caduceus whispers, stroking his hair and grinding his palm against Fjord's cock a little more firmly. Fjord makes a noise like a sob and grips Caduceus' shirt so hard his knuckles go white. "You can let go."

It's only a few more moments of grinding before Fjord comes with a choked cry. His hips keep moving, humping Caduceus' hand through his orgasm until it hurts and he's afraid the fabric will chafe him. The warmth and calm that follows is short-lived, and by the time he's properly caught his breath, he's hyper-aware of how empty he is, how hard he is, how the smell of him has filled the entire room. He wouldn't be surprised if every person in this godsdamned inn knows how desperate he is. His head swims and he shivers violently as Caduceus pulls his hand away. The hand in his hair moves to his lower back, and the other hand, a bit sticky with his come, comes to rest on his hip again.

"Lay back. You're gonna hurt your knees if you stay like this, and nobody wants that." The hand on his hip pushes gently, trying to guide him. "I'd like to get you on your back, get these pants off, maybe use my mouth on you if you want. But I need to get more comfortable and you do too before we do much else."

Fjord hesitates, not wanting to have to look or be looked at, but his knees are already starting to hurt and the idea of Caduceus' tongue on (or, gods willing, _in_ him) is alluring enough that he pulls away slowly and lets himself sit back. His legs ache as he unfolds them, and his knees make a few disconcerting popping sounds. He keeps his eyes down as he hooks his thumbs in the waist of his pants and slides them off. He can see his cock, hard and flushed dark green, peeking from the dark, coarse hair between his legs. There's slick on the insides of his thighs making a mess, and his pants are definitely too far gone to save. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Caduceus stand up, stretch a bit, and kneel at the side of the bed. He rolls his head, neck popping as he does so, and sinks back on his heels until his face is roughly level with the bed. He has to hunch down to get there, and it doesn't look terribly comfortable, but he seems to have settled into it easily enough. He smiles at Fjord, a soft, friendly thing that seems at odds with the situation. He pats the bed in front of him, and Fjord scoots over until his ass is on the edge of the mattress. Caduceus starts stroking his thighs again, soft fur tickling his skin. Then he guides Fjord's thighs onto his shoulders, keeping him spread open and unable to hide himself.

"You really do smell nice," Caduceus says, and nuzzles his face against the crease of Fjord's thigh. The coarse hair of his beard scratches the sensitive skin while the soft hair on his face tickles it, and the dual sensations feel _so_ good. When he breathes out, it's cool on Fjord's sensitive dick. He shivers violently and wishes he was past the point of embarrassment already.

Caduceus presses his nose right to Fjord's core and breathes in deeply. The contact is torturous more than anything, and it takes everything in him not to shove his hips forward and grind against Caduceus' face. But he resists, instead squeezing his eyes shut tight and digging the blunt nubs of his still-growing tusks into the inside his cheeks. When Caduceus drags his tongue from Fjord's hole up to his cock, he's entirely unprepared for it and a noise he didn't know it was even _possible_ for him to make escapes him. The movement is so slow, like Caduceus is just testing the waters (which, okay, he _is_ , but Fjord is desperate and it feels like the worst kind of teasing). The firbolg hums against him like his taste is something he's analyzing, stowing the knowledge away for later. The vibrations make Fjord shudder and Caduceus does it again, intentional this time. Then he licks Fjord again, tongue sliding between his lips, brushing against his hole, dragging up to press against his cock. He starts to lick the hard nub, broad strokes with the flat of his tongue turning into direct pressure from the tip of it, making Fjord writhe beneath him. Caduceus' hands on his thighs keep him relatively steady and still, and the constant pressure holding him down is just another sensation to add to the pile of feelings overwhelming Fjord at the moment. He doesn't tip over the edge, though, until Caduceus presses his tongue into him as deep as it will go and groans against him. 

The feeling of his walls squeezing around Cad's tongue is like nothing he's ever experienced, foreign and real fucking good. Caduceus, for his part, is groaning and continuing to fuck him with his tongue even as Fjord shudders to pieces around him. His movements, the noises he's making against Fjord- contemplative and impressed- aren't helping to quell the aftershocks, and it feels like he's being electrocuted and-- he comes again just seconds later. 

Immediately after, it's way too much stimulation and he pushes Caduceus away as firmly as he can manage with limbs like jelly. That damned tongue drags a pathetic little wrecked noise from Fjord as Caduceus draws back and pulls it out of him. He feels empty and sensitive and nowhere near ready to stop, even if he so badly wants to. 

"How're you doing?" Caduceus' voice is even lower and rougher than usual and the wave of arousal that washes through Fjord is almost nauseatingly powerful. If he wasn't already flat on his back, he'd worry about his knees going weak. Why hasn't he noticed how fucking hot Caduceus' voice is before? One of Cad's hands is still on his thigh, huge and warm and probably supposed to be comforting, but it's just helping stoke the fire in the pit of his stomach. 

He's so busy thinking about those fingers deep inside him, working him open slowly and gently, that he doesn't realize Caduceus has asked him a question until he repeats it.

"Uh, fuck, sorry. Yeah, I'm…. 'm alright. How are, uh… How are you holdin' up?"

"Good," Caduceus' voice is so rumbly and so nice, Fjord wants to melt into it. "I'm learning a lot, I think. Is it alright if I touch you again?"

"Gods, please, _yes_ -"

"Would you like my fingers inside of you?"

There's no secondary motivation behind Caduceus' questions- he's asking because he wants to know, wants consent and open communication. But Fjord will be damned if being made to tell Cad everything he wants before he'll do any of it isn't hot as hell.

"Yeah, I'd like that. Please."

When Caduceus stands up from where he was kneeling he absolutely towers over Fjord, who suddenly feels so very small and exposed on the bed. He looks down at Fjord, his brow furrowed like he's thinking about something.

"I'd like to try something, if that's alright. Could you get on your hands and knees?"

Gods, Fjord has no idea where this is going but he'd do anything Caduceus asked of him, anything to have those fingers inside of him, fucking him open, reducing him to even more of a babbling mess than he already is. His arms and legs are still wobbly and it takes some doing to get himself into position, but once he's there, it feels _right_. That's definitely the heat talking, but he can’t bring himself to care all that much. 

“Huh,” Caduceus says from behind him, “this position really puts you on display, doesn’t it? That’s nice.”

Fjord hangs his head, face burning. He doesn’t know if it’s worse or better that Caduceus isn’t saying any of this to get him riled up, he’s saying whatever pops into his head and it’s just so happening to drive Fjord crazy. He can feel his come running down his thighs and it’s disgustingly hot.

The bed creaks and groans as Caduceus climbs onto it once more, and rests a hand on Fjord’s ass. It’s so warm he feels like he’s been branded, and he leans back into the touch before he can even process what his body is doing. When Caduceus runs his thumb from Fjord’s hole to his cock, slow and feather-light, he drops to his elbows, presses his face to the mattress, and groans. He spreads his legs just a bit wider as he does so, and tries to hold onto whatever small amount of rational thought he has left as Caduceus does it again.

"Please, 'duceus, please gimme more, I feel like I'm gonna die."

"Sorry," he says, and he sounds a little hesitant. "The other stuff felt pretty instinctual but this is uh, a bit new. I like touching you because the sounds you make are real nice, and I've been going based on that. But my fingers are pretty big compared to yours and I don't want to hurt you if I put them in you. Would you be up for showing me how you like it? That way I can see and maybe you can give yourself a bit of a warmup."

At the thought of jerking off in front of Caduceus, Fjord wants to melt through the bed into the floor. But he wants to get off more than he wants to disappear so he nods and rolls over his shoulder so he's on his back again. He spreads his legs almost wide enough that it hurts and bends his knees up, planting his feet on the bed.

"Should I, uh… You want me to narrate?"

"If it's not too much trouble." Caduceus settles back onto his heels and watches with a look of curiosity that's definitely not sexy but is kind of endearing.

"So, uh, normally I'd do a bit more foreplay but considerin' the circumstances I'd say I'm pretty much ready to go. I can probably even-" He presses two fingers against and then into his hole, and he's so wet and relaxed that he meets no resistance whatsoever. It's the worst kind of tease, where he feels fuller than with nothing in him but nowhere near satisfied. He glances again at Caduceus' crotch but he still seems physically uninterested.

"Sorry," Caduceus says, blushing a little for maybe the first time all day, "like I said, sex isn't really my bag. I do think you're very attractive, but I probably won't get an erection unless I'm manually stimulated, so to speak." 

Fjord feels bad, both for getting caught staring and for making Caduceus feel weird. His brain is trying to run down twenty different paths at once, though, and he can't find and assemble the words he needs to apologize. But Caduceus, ever perceptive, seems to know what he's thinking.

"I don't need an apology, Mister Fjord, you didn't make me feel bad. Are you able to keep describing what you're doing?"

He nods, and drags in a shaky breath as he curls his fingers up into himself. "Ah- I'm pressin' into the front of my cunt, there's a spot that-" He hits it and curls in on himself as he gasps. "-ffffuck, that, it does that, uh, _gods_ Cad, I dunno, just kinda curl 'em, thrust 'em in and out, just _please_ \--"

"I think I get it." He sounds more confident, and in a surprising show of strength, he grabs Fjord's hips and turns him so he's back on his hands and knees. His fingers slip out of him with a wet noise, and Caduceus is dead silent behind him. Then he's humming and pushing one huge finger into Fjord, roughly the size of two of his, and presses down. The new angle combined with the new sensation brings Fjord to a shuddering orgasm, one that Caduceus finger-fucks him through without batting an eye. His other hand grips Fjord's hip, holding him close and still and just _maybe_ hard enough to bruise.

Even as Fjord comes around his finger, Caduceus doesn’t stop moving, and it’s so much that Fjord feels his eyes rolling back into his head. He drops down to his elbows again, letting his head hang heavy because he doesn’t have the strength to keep it up at the moment. His orgasm feels drawn out, almost like Caduceus is pulling it out of him with every curl of his finger, stretching it longer and longer until he’s afraid it’ll never end. Distantly, he’s aware that he’s chanting Caduceus’ name interspersed with _please_ s and _gods_ and nonsense groans and whines. If the entire city doesn’t know what’s happening to him at this point he’d be surprised. This is going to make it hard to look anyone in the eye later on.

There’s a thick, blunt pressure and a slow press into him as Caduceus adds a second finger, and Fjord’s mind goes blank. He’s full in a way he’s never been before, or maybe it’s just that he’s already so fucked-out and still horny that it feels new, but either way, he feels like every single one of his nerve endings is raw and exposed. Goosebumps decorate his skin and he feels lightheaded as Caduceus slowly starts to move his fingers. As with everything he’s done today, Caduceus’ movements are unpracticed, with much more enthusiasm than finesse, but Fjord will be damned if that’s not just what he needs. The enthusiasm is more than enough to get the job done. 

He’s so close again, but he feels the anxious, thrumming energy starting to ebb from his body. Even as Caduceus’ fingers wind him tighter and tighter, the deep-seated tension and ache that’s been there since this whole thing started is beginning to drain from his muscles. _It’s almost over,_ he thinks, and then Caduceus’ thumb finds his cock, brushes firmly against it, and Fjord comes so hard he goes limp.

Vaguely, he’s aware of Caduceus helping shift him into a more comfortable position, getting a warm, wet cloth from somewhere and wiping him down from head to toe. His head is fuzzy in the nicest way, and he feels like he’s floating. Every inch of him is equal parts sated and exhausted, and when he tries to thank Caduceus, to ask him what he can do for him, his mouth only succeeds in making weird mumbling sounds. 

“Shh. It’s alright. Just rest. You’ve earned it.”

The first coherent words Fjord manages to produce are, “Don’t go,” and he’s not far enough gone that he doesn’t wince at how needy he sounds. 

“I’m right here. You’re okay.” A hand, recently washed, strokes his hair slowly. The warmth and the repetition are enough to start lulling Fjord to sleep, body tingling pleasantly and all the urgency bled out of him. He’s not sure what will happen when he wakes up, how he’ll feel or what he’ll say to Caduceus, but at the moment, he can’t think of anything he wants more than to give in to the soft, cottony darkness of sleep. So he does.


End file.
